


And It's a Beautiful Day

by stylesforstiles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Smut, SO MUCH BANTER, alternate universe tv, do you see what I did there with the name of the channel, fluff fluff fluff, just go with it, not from zayn, their twitter handles aren't spot on I apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:35:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesforstiles/pseuds/stylesforstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's never a dull moment at WMYB Channel 9</p><p>A TV Station AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	And It's a Beautiful Day

Louis needed a coffee, maybe two, even though he had already had one on the way to work. This was a poor start to the day considering he only started at noon. However, there was a reason Louis wasn’t part of the morning segment at the TV station he worked at. He liked his nights late, his drinks strong, and his news in the form of celebrity gossip.

He had started out as an intern at the station, which basically consisted of him making and distributing caffeinated beverages, aside from the one year he got to tag along for the taping of a series on summer travel spots. A long running joke around the station, as it was really just a poor excuse for them to get drunk in popular European destinations and capture it on film, all expenses paid.

It had also ended up being the turning point in Louis’ career. The head of the station had watched footage of him and another intern, Perrie, ripping apart the latest issue of Hello page by page (after a rousing drinking competition at the Pink Palace in Greece, which they won he might add), and their colorful commentary earned them a meeting with the head honcho Simon – ‘You’ve got good banter. Now, let’s see if you can do it sober.’

They were given a noon hour spot doing what they do best; gossip, rag on famous people and give beauty advice. It took off.

So, despite his pounding head, Louis always looked forward to work. He loved his job.

He strolled into the studio and immediately sought out some caffeine, running into an equally hung over Niall, the sports desk guy, in the kitchen. Louis smacked the tip of his snap back on the way to grab his mug out of the cupboard.

“Big night, Nialler?”

He gave Louis a sleepy smile, scrubbing at his blood shot eyes. “Footie players.” Louis hummed in acknowledgement. Nothing else really needed to be said. “How bout you? You’re looking a little rough around the edges yourself there, Tommo,”

Louis leaned back against the counter ready to fill Niall in on his evening; an evening that he had meant to spend being productive and going to the shops to fill up his barren cupboards. But instead he got lost in a Tom Hiddleston YouTube black hole – it all starts with ‘oh I’ve never seen this’, and then several hours later you emerge, a shell of your former self, wondering where your life took a wrong turn. There may have also been brandy. Which Louis is fairly certain his step dad gave him as a housewarming gift - ‘A man’s drink, Lou!’ – about five years ago.

He really needed to go shopping.

“Let the record state that I had every intention of going out, however—“

Louis broke off, immediately switching into bitch mode. He glared at the door, his headache increasing in size. “Don’t you two have your own kitchen to twat up with your twattyness?”

Niall chuckled in the background, but no, this was no laughing matter. Louis already had a low threshold for annoyance, but nobody got on his last two nerves more than Nick Grimshaw and Eleanor Calder; the hosts of the world’s most pretentious cooking show that was filmed in the studio next to theirs. Louis wasn’t quite sure what it was about them that filled his heart with rage, but the way they pronounced ‘pancetta’ was pretty high up there.

Eleanor cocked her head, smile sickeningly sweet. “You certainly enjoy that term for a man who knows very little about vaginas,”

Louis mirrored her smile. “I know that yours has probably grown cobwebs by now, what with you being attached at the hip 24 hours a day with Quiffy McQuifferson over there,”

Nick moved around her to open the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. He shook his head with a tsk, “Don’t project Louis, I know this is just bitterness rearing it's ugly head due to the fact that you’ve probably seen as many cocks as Niall has in the past year."

Niall scratched his head, thoughtful for a moment. “I haven’t seen any cocks…ohhh,”

Nick snapped his fingers, pointing at him. “Ding, ding ding, there we go!”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Seriously, shouldn’t you be inventing obnoxious recipes or shopping for ridiculously obscure and overpriced ingredients while stroking each other’s egos or something? Why are you _here.”_

Eleanor walked over to the couch, smoothing down her skirt with her perfectly manicured hands. “Well, I’m here because I live to torture you with my presence. Nick’s here because Zayn exists.”

Nick whipped his head up. “Hey!”

Louis turned around, resting his forehead on the counter, sighing heavily. “I hate you both so much.”

“Hi guys!”

Louis groaned inwardly. Now was not the time for Liam’s perpetual cheer. Though, that was the reason he was the morning news reporter, along with Zayn – ‘Waking up with Zayn and Liam!’ Louis often wonders if their bosses have thought about that show name. They are either really daft, or really smart. Because he’s sure 99% of their audience would not mind waking up next to Zayn or Liam. Or both. It’s not like he’s _ever_ thought about that.

Anyways.

Louis peeled himself off the counter and faced Liam. And he had expected to see Zayn there with him, but instead he was with a guy Louis had never seen before. An extremely fit somebody he hadn’t seen before.

Liam ushered him into the room, nodding at Louis and Niall with his wide news anchor smile, which faltered slightly when he noticed Nick and Eleanor.

“Louis, Niall, you two, this is Harry Styles. He’s the new weatherman!”

Harry grinned, holding up a finger. “Meteorologist,”

Liam’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Hmm?”

Nick threw his head back, cackling loudly. He walked over to Harry, patting his back. “Careful with the big words, Styles. Liam’s more muscles than brains,” Liam frowned. Nick waved him off. “Don’t be sad, Liam, your abs are spectacular. Might use them to grate cheese on our show one day, what do you think, El?”

Liam cleared his throat. “Right, okay, anyways, back to Harry,”

Harry glanced around the room, with a beaming smile. Louis thinks he looks a bit like a frog. But an extremely happy one at least.

“Hiiiiiii everybody! Nice to meet you all, I look forward to working with each one of you.”

Louis thumbed over at Nick and Eleanor, “Not them, they don’t work here.”

Harry turned to shake Nick’s hand. Louis tried the best he could to stop this exchange with the power of his mind alone. Sadly, he did not have superpowers.

“Oh well, nice to meet you regardless, Nick. I love your show, I dabble a bit in the kitchen myself.”

Nick cocked an eyebrow, slowly shaking Harry’s hand, and slowly trailing his eyes up his excruciatingly long torso. “Perhaps you can come and dabble a bit in my kitchen—“

Louis sprang into action, manhandling Harry away from Nick. “You know what Harry, how about we show you the rest of the studio?”

“But we’ve just done that…” Liam started to interject, cutting himself off when he caught Louis’ hostile eyebrow. “But you know, always good to be familiar with where you’re going; it gets a bit confusing all these rooms!”

“It’s not that confusing,” Niall offered with shrug, avoiding hostile eyebrow number two.

Louis pushed Harry out the door. “Come along, Harold.”

“Uh, it’s actually just Harry?”

Louis paused, turning to look at Harry, and well. Maybe that wasn’t the best idea, looking at him head on. All of his features were just _so_ big – his hair, his eyes, his lips – Louis didn’t know where to look (do not look down he thought quickly; he really didn’t need to know what else was big).

He reached out to give him a friendly pat on his very solid chest. Louis frowned down at his hand before glancing up at him again. “Alright just Harry, I’ve got a show to host, so I’ll leave you to it. Niall was right, it’s not that confusing. I just wanted to save you from Nick. Because he’s terrible.”

Harry laughed, the loud guffaw sounding out through the deserted hallway. “Okay, thanks. Though to be fair, he seems alright. He’s brilliant on his show.”

Louis shook his head with a sigh. “I can already tell you’re much too nice.”

Harry’s smile turned cheeky. “I’ve been told it’s my sunny disposition,”

Louis narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me, was that a weatherman pun, Harold?”

“Mayyybeee.”

This was already unfair. Fit, adorable, and told horrid jokes. Louis needed to find Perrie.

…

Perrie was in the dressing room perched in a chair while her hair and makeup were fussed with when Louis dramatically flopped down beside her. She barely looked up from her magazine to acknowledge him, licking the tip of a dainty finger to turn the page.

“Now what?”

Louis yanked the magazine out of her hands, throwing it behind him. Unfazed, she crossed her legs, folding her hands over her knees primly and turned her body towards Louis waiting for him to spill.

He slumped down in the chair, resting his hands on his stomach. “I hate Nick and El,”

Perrie rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, moving to climb out of her chair. Louis frowned. “Hey!”

She sat back, pursing her lips. “Lou, love, we have this conversation daily; unless there is something new to add, can I please go back to my magazine? One of us actually has to do the research for our show you do realize.”

“I _beg_ your pardon; I carried us through the Twilight years,”

Perrie smiled, wistfully reminiscing. “I still feel grave sorrow for what that poor Edward cutout went through,” She drummed her fingers on her chair, “So, what’s the problem now?”

Louis rolled his head to the side to meet her eyes. “Have you seen the new weather guy?”

She immediately started shaking with laughter. “I should have known, honestly Louis, you do have a type. Tall, big, bouffant hair. Can’t say I’m surprised in the slightest.”

Louis was never going to live down those Twilight years.

He snapped his fingers, waiting for her to calm down. She sucked in a few breaths, fixing her hair back into place, trying to keep a straight face for Louis’ sake. “This is important Pez. We have to keep him away from Nicholas,”

“I feel a bit like we’re going to be reenacting the Bodyguard. Are you going to be serenading him at any point during this self-appointed mission?”  
  
He grabbed her hand, giving the back of it a loud smack with his lips. “If you accept this mission, and it’s successful, I will serenade you. On air.” He popped a shoulder. “Who knows, I may even throw in a lap dance.”

“Oh god, yes.”

*

Alright sure, Louis had met Harry for all of five minutes, but in those five minutes he could tell he was something special. And he could also tell that he would like to see what he looked like naked, if only for scientific purposes.

Also, sexual purposes. Louis wanted to have sex with him okay. When he knew, he knew. However, he also knew that Nick was eyeing him up like a kid in a candy story, and Louis could not have that.

After his and Perrie’s segment, that was mostly Perrie nattering on about the new Hunger Games movie, which Louis was supposed to have seen with her, but instead he ended up blowing a confused straight guy at some awful club that Zayn and Liam had dragged him to. Whoops.

Louis fully blames the accidental dick sucking on all of the sexual tension that was emanating off of Zayn and Liam. He wasn’t sure whether to be confused or turned on by their homo erotic grinding. He’s supposed that was why they worked so well together; he had to give it to them, they had great chemistry. He just didn’t know how far that extended. (Who is he kidding; he had a pretty good idea).

May the odds be ever in their favor.

So after Louis had nothing to offer about Jennifer Lawrence, or Josh Hutcherson surprisingly, he ventured over to the main set to see how Harry was doing.

Louis stood off to the side watching with a mixture of fascination, horror and arousal. He had never seen anyone deliver the weather with such enthusiasm; doing his best Vanna White impression in the tightest pair of skinny jeans Louis has ever laid eyes on. They were definitely bringing a heat wave to Louis’ dick.

His long gangly arms slapped up suns and clouds and suns and clouds with rain drops – where the fuck did those even come from, did he bring his own props? – starting in on the week long forecast. Louis chewed on his thumbnail, listening as Harry’s syrupy slow voice talked about high pressure systems and moisture barriers, and he really wanted to know if the rest of the city felt like this was a very pornographic delivery of the weather.

Louis was pretty sure it was just him, but he pulled out his phone to check the stations twitter feed regardless. He almost choked on his tongue as he read the first one.

 

@WMYBchannel9 bloody hell the new weather guy wasn’t kidding about things being moist

 

@WMYBchannel9 can those high winds blow the weatherman into my bed please

 

@WMYBchannel9 petition for Harry Styles to do the weather report naked

 

Louis clicked on the link attached to the tweet and there was indeed a blog started for this petition already. Unbelievable. Louis frowned at his phone. Where the hell was his petition? He glanced down at his stomach, then back over at Harry, running his eyes over his broad shoulders down to his tapered waist.

He quickly signed the petition and pocketed his phone. No one will ever have to know.

Because he signed off as Niall Horan.

When Harry was finally done ruining lives and upping their viewer count, he ambled over to Louis with sparkling eyes and a shy grin.

“Did I do alright then? I was kind of nervous,”

Louis couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. Though looking at his wide unblinking eyes, he thinks he was. Louis cocked his head to the side. “Do you have a twitter?”

He shook his head, the hair on top of his head flopping back and forth only to correct itself into its original position. Fascinating. He bit his lip, looking confused. “Nooo. Should I?”

Louis contemplated this. Harry was literally on the telly for less than ten minutes and already people were talking about him. He bets he could even surpass Nick’s legion of twitter fans. Louis almost did an evil manic laugh. Almost.

“I think you should definitely make one. It will be a great way to introduce yourself to people!”

He laughed. “Alright, I guess I’ll do that tonight when I get home. Thanks again Louis, you’ve been great.”

Louis took a little bow. “My pleasure.”

They parted ways after that, seeing as Harry actually had to do things for his job, studying weather patterns and what not. Louis did as well, but most of his research was done at home scouring the internet for entertainment news, or spent out at a new club or seeing the newest teen movie craze.

Instead of doing research he went shopping for trousers that suctioned onto his every curve, and low cut t-shirts and cozy looking jumpers that made him look extremely cuddlable. At least he hopes that’s the affect they gave off.

He absently pet the front of a cranberry colored jumper later that night in his flat, admiring himself in his full length mirror. He didn’t want to brag, but fuck if he didn’t look good. They should really start a segment on their show called “Louis in sweaters”. While he debating bringing it up with Perrie, his phone buzzed to life with a message from the one and only Miss Edwards herself.

He unlocked the screen, scratching his head in confusion.

      - looks like your boyfriend made himself a twitter. You should have a look, its verrry interesting

      - and read the article I emailed you so we can discuss on the show tomorrow you twat

      - and yes, you look fit in the sweater, and no we aren't starting a segment if that's where this is going

Louis strolled over and dropped down on his couch, waiting for his lap top to come to life. He brought up his email first to skim over what Perrie had sent him, squinting his eyes at the screen. What the hell is a vajazzle? He shrugged, closing it down to load Twitter instead. He’ll read it later (he won’t).

He usually accessed Twitter from his phone, so he had forgotten that he had changed his wallpaper to a collage of shirtless Chris Evans. He sat back and admired it for a moment. Definitely one of his better drunken stupor decisions. It stays.

He typed Harry Styles into the search bar and low and behold there he was, with over a thousand followers already. How was that even possible? He clicked on his bio and almost spit out the whiskey he had poured himself. There, underneath a picture of Harry in bright yellow rain boots with a huge smile on his face, was quite possibly the most ridiculous and endearing bio he had ever read.

‘Harry Styles, Cheshire. Bananas, fro-yo, Matt Healy, and sunshine on a cloudy day. Smile; there could be a rainbow somewhere’

Well then. As it turns out, Louis is in lust with a giant man child. While he was contemplating what this all meant, he noticed a series of tweets come through.

 

@grimmers: @harry_styles  everyone!! give a warm welcome to the hot new weather boy. PS, nice boots Harold

 

@grimmers: @harry_styles and fro-yo? Oh Harold, you do need to stop by the kitchen. I can do better than that

 

Louis waited a beat, his fingers itching. Sure he would love to leave it alone, but the whiskey was igniting a fire in his veins right now, fueling his Nick hatred. He hit a few keys pounding out his reply, and sat back with a satisfied smile on his face.

 

@louis_tomlinson: @grimmers fuck off Grimshaw

 

His response was almost instant, like he had been sitting around waiting to piss Louis off.

 

@grimmers: @louis_tomlinson ooohhh, someone's feisty tonight

 

This was also accompanied by several nail painting emoji’s, which Louis thinks is an insult. He debates a comeback and decides to spend the rest of the night googling Harry Styles instead.

You know. Normal adult behavior.

 

*

 

The next day Perrie was waiting for him in kitchen with a mug of tea prepared just the way he liked it and a smug smile on her face. Louis took a sip, sighing happily before raising an eyebrow.

“What?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, the smugness now a full blown smirk. “You didn’t read the article I sent you, did you.”

Louis bit his lip, blinking at her dumbly. She cackled loudly, with another screeching laugh joining hers. Louis whipped his head over to the couch where Niall was peeking his head over. “Why are _you_ laughing?”

He only squawked louder. “Ha! Pez told me about the show today. Hope you manscaped, buddy,”

Naturally, Harry had to walk into to room as soon as manscaping was brought up. Louis took a long gulp of tea as he drank in Harry’s mess of curls, painted on blue jeans and hideously expensive looking coat.

And damn near almost melted his esophagus. He sputtered out a cough, cursing himself. Dammit Louis, be more careful, you’re going to need that throat to be in top condition if you want Harry Styles down it.

Harry glanced at each of them. “Manscaping?”

Perrie stepped toward him with a mug of tea (now Louis was really suspicious. Perrie _never_ made tea), a bright smile to match her bright red lips. “Harry, lovely Harry. You’re just in time for an exciting segment, Louis here is going get vajazzled!”

Harry’s eyebrows almost rose completely off his face. “Oh…that’s um…yeah,”

Louis stomped his foot. “Why does everyone know what this is but me?”

Perrie clucked her tongue, rubbing a soothing hand down his arm. “You’re getting your bits bedazzled, Lou.”

Harry rocked back and forth on his feet, looking back and forth between Louis and Perrie; while Niall watched eagerly, now perched on his knees, leaning over the couch.

Louis huffed. “Fine, bring on the dick jewels.” Harry coughed into his first, looking down at his shoes with a pink tinge on his cheeks. Louis glanced back at Perrie. “Why is this a thing? Jesus, who needs jewelry down there, sometimes it’s like getting through a fucking forest on certain men.”

They all stood staring at Louis, mouths gaping. 

“What, too much information for your virgin ears?”

Louis had a brief moment of triumph.

…

That was until he was on set in a robe and not much else, with a giggly girl glueing baby blue faux diamonds – they match your eyes! – to his crotch. This is really not how he thought he’d be spending his day.

He glanced down warily, “These come off, right?”

Perrie leaned over to admire her work, impressed. “Don’t get a head of yourself now Lou, maybe Harry might like to see them.”

Kim, the vajazzle artist sat back in her chair, clapping excitedly. “Ohhh, who’s Harry?”

“The new weather guy, and Louis’ newest crush,”

She looked delighted. “Who can blame you then? Saw him on the telly yesterday. He’s pretty cute."

Louis was really happy this discussion was taking place off the air. Not to mention the whole process in general. She got back to work while Louis pouted. “Doesn’t matter, I don’t think I’m his type anyways. He likes skinny little hipsters.”

Perrie reached over to ruffle his hair. “You’re everyone’s type, love. Even Niall tried to snog you that one year at the Christmas party.”

“He also drank an entire punch bowl of egg nog to himself and proceeded to ask Zayn and Liam if they have ever touched dicks. His eloquent words, not mine.”

Both girls paused, waiting for an answer. Louis gave Perrie a pointed look. “Pez, do you even watch their show? It’s a goldmine of sexual tension.”

She shook her head. “No, I prefer my beauty sleep. And since when do you get up that early?”

“Darling, nothing gives me more energy than misguided feelings and Liam’s all around confusion on whether or not he should report the news straight from Zayn’s lap. It’s a beautiful thing.”

Kim suddenly chirped a “voila!” Louis breathed out a sigh of relief as the last of the jewels were pressed onto him, while Perrie clasped her hands under her chin. “This is brilliant. How does it feel?”

Louis gingerly slid off the table, his face scrunching up in annoyance. “It feels bloody awful. I’m doing the show in my robe.”

“You can’t do the show in your robe, Lou,”

He shot her a look before dramatically pulling open the door. “Watch me.”

…

Louis was almost 150% sure he was going to be receiving an email from their boss Simon in the morning detailing the company policy on appropriate clothing to wear on air. But despite the robe, he did have to say it made for an entertaining piece of television. The gay Hugh Hefner jokes were flowing and Louis could strongly recommend the services their new friend Kim, just maybe save the bedazzling for a special occasion.

Louis caught the tail end of Harrys’ afternoon forecast and he swears on all that is holy the term ‘cold front’ had never sounded so titillating. Louis needed help.

Harry strode over to him after his spot was over, his eyes wide. “Did you…uh, did you wear that on air?”

“Why, yes I did,” he made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Can’t very well wear trousers when I have a crotch full of costume jewelry on, now can I?”

Harry flushed, a nervous giggle escaping his lips. “So, how did that go?”

“All I know for sure is that women love making themselves uncomfortable.”

Harry licked his lips. “I’m sure you can’t wait to get off then.”

Louis raised his eyebrows, while Harry registered what he just said. His voice rose in panic. “Them! I meant them…the jewels,” he added weakly. “I—I should go. Yeah. See you later, Louis.”

He watched him scurry away. Well, more like lope. He watched him lope away, because his big dumb body was being held up by a pair of deer legs.  And because he’s an awkward forest creature, he almost ran smack dab into Niall, who caught him with a laugh and sent him along with a pat on a back.

He jogged over to Louis, thumbing back at Harry. “What did you do to him?”

Louis groaned, leaning back against the wall. “Ugh, I wish I was doing things to him.” He crossed his arms, giving Niall a quizzical look. “Don’t you ever work?”

He kicked out at Louis with his rather colorful shoes. He had to smile. Niall was a gem. “Shut it, Tommo. Slow week for sports is all. Though I gotta go search for some Derby stats, that should get me through the rest of the week.”

Louis pushed off the wall, patting his cheek. “I’m not even going to pretend to know what that is, pal. Pints this weekend?”

“It’s Tuesday, Lou,”

Louis pointed a finger at him in disgust. “That is the most un-Irish thing you have ever said.”

He put his hands up in surrender, his laugh tinkling throughout the hall. “Alright, alright. The answer is always yes, you know that. Just, little eager aren’t we?”

“Niall, I have a feeling I will be drinking at every weeks end with Harry Styles around.”

 

*

 

It’s been six weeks.

Louis has not been this infatuated with someone since his Leonardo Di Caprio faze. An appalling time not only for Louis, but his best mate Stan as well. He shudders to think about how many times he made him reenact scenes from the Titanic with him. He was a good, good friend.

Louis does not want to be this enamored by a guy who peels his bananas the wrong way, and then continues on to eat it like he’s enjoying a banana flavored cock. It was obscene and unnecessary and Louis definitely does not wank off to the image. And, in his non wank off scenario, Harry is definitely not wearing tiny yellow shorts (he saw them at American Apparel, he thought of Harry, sue him) and rubbing himself down with suntan lotion on the deck of the Titanic. Nope.

Louis’ elaborate fantasies were the reason he was whining into a pint glass that Saturday night.

“I’m actually watching the weather you guys. This is so bad. Did you see how adorable he looked in that parka the other day in the middle of that snowstorm?”

Louis slumped over, resting his forehead on the table to hide his shame. This Harry thing was getting out of hand. He just referred to a grown man as adorable. He must be stopped. He could feel Niall and Perrie’s pity burning into the top of his head.

“Hey, is that Zayn and Liam…on a date?”

Louis had never moved his body so fast. He sat upright craning his neck around until he spotted them. And yes, huddled in a dark corner of the pub was none other than Ziam.

Niall took a sip of his drink, nudging Perrie with his shoulder. “See? If they can bang, don’t see why you and sunny Styles can’t, right P?”

She nudged him back, grinning over at Louis. “Oh Niall, this is far beyond shagging at this point, I think Lou is planning their wedding already,”

Louis sighed. “He may as well be my husband, because he’s driving me absolutely mental.”

Perrie leaned over and flicked him in the head. “Then ask him out already, you twat.”

Niall cheersed her glass before lifting it up to Louis. “Seriously, I don’t think I can watch him deep throat anymore bananas around you—" Niall’s eyes went wide, his mouth forming an ‘o’, “Fuck.”

Louis frowned, turning around to see what had gotten Niall’s panties in a bunch, and…oh fuck indeed. Harry had just walked through the door looking good enough to eat (nothing new there), in blue jeans that were probably his tightest pair yet, another pricey looking brown suede coat and from where he was sitting, what looked like a wisp of a t-shirt. A sheer t-shirt which left little to the imagination. Louis didn’t need this. He did not need to see the outline of Harry’s abs and what looked like a giant butterfly right above them. This fucking guy.

Once Louis moved past that he realized what Niall’s ‘fuck’ had been about. Nick fucking Grimshaw trailing right behind Harry with a smug as all fuck look on his face. Which was his usual face, just amplified. Because of course he noticed them and was dragging Harry over towards their table.

Louis barely heard Perrie’s calming voice over the angry cursing of Nick’s name in his head. “Hey, I’m sure they’re just friends,”

Yes, the very thing operation ‘Bodyguard’ was supposed to stop from happening. They were a failure. Perrie was definitely not getting a lap dance now. 

Nick plunked himself in front of them, resting his chin on his hands. “If it isn’t my favorite people, fancy meeting you here,”

Louis bristled, talking a long sip of his drink. He ignored Nick, running his eyes over Harry instead because that was a much more pleasant experience. “Hello Harold. Slumming it tonight I see,”

And because Harry is a better person than all of them combine he smiled, popping his dimple and shuffling his feet (adorably. Louis hates himself). “I was just filming Nick’s Christmas special with him, it was quite fun. He's buying me a thank you drink for my time.”

Louis glanced at Nick, who was preening. Yeah. Sure, _that’s_ why he’s here buying you drinks. “And where is your trusty sidekick that you needed to bother our staff members to help you with your pompous show?”

Nick reached out for his pint, stealing a sip. He licked his lips, winking at Louis. “She had a family emergency.”

“Really? I did not realize they had emergencies in hell.”

Niall smacked him (on Perrie’s prompt). “Hey now, that’s not nice.”

Louis scoffed, stealing his drink back from Nick. “No one said I was. Can you fuck off now please?” He smiled knowingly at Niall, “See? I can at least be polite.”

Harry was biting on the side of his finger watching the two of them anxiously. He suddenly dropped his hand away, his whole face lighting up in shock. “Is that Zayn and Liam?”

Nick waved him off, sliding out of the chair. “That’s old news Harry, those two have been fucking for years. Let’s go get a drink.”

Nick tugged on his arm, while Harry looked back at Louis reluctantly before following him over to the bar.

Louis chugged the last of his beer and started to wrap his scarf around his neck. Perrie grabbed his hands away, pouting out her lips. “You’re not leaving are you?”

Louis sat back, grumbling like a small child. “I don’t want to sit here and watch Nick do his thing. That should be me.”

Niall smirked. “Are you quoting Bieber to us?”

“No, because only you knew it was Bieber. Niall, do we need to have that intervention again?”

Niall rolled his eyes, signaling the waitress to bring them another round. “That album was exceptional. He’s just going through a hard time right now.”

Louis shook his head. There was no use in having this argument with Niall. He would defend the Biebs until his dying day. Things just got a little out of hand when his last album came out, with Niall having it on repeat wherever they went for months. Hence, the intervention.

Though, they’ve all had their interventions over the years – Perrie for her candy floss hair “Pez you look great, but it’s going to fall out one of these days, love” and Louis’ colored pants “Louis, I don’t want to field anymore emails about who Twinky Winky is on the show.”

So.

Niall clutched his stomach, laughing at the memory. Louis chucked a peanut at his head. “My arse looked amazing in those pants. Practically sinful,”

Perrie passed him a new drink, winking at him. “They were bloody sinful, that’s why they weren’t allowed on air anymore. But you did look hot, babe.”

Louis leaned over to kiss her full on the mouth. “Thank you, doll.” He gave her one more messy kiss before she pushed him away with a giggle. Louis caught Harry staring at him out of the corner of his eye, a slight frown on his pretty pink lips.

It was then and there that Louis decided he should stay.

…

An hour later Louis was pleasantly buzzed and freezing his arse off as he took a phone call from his mother outside of the loud pub. He leaned against the cool brick, huddling inside his oversized jumper.

“Mum, I love you but I am going to die of hypothermia, and then you won’t be able to shower me with birthday presents in a few weeks’ time. Tell Lottie that all men are arseholes and she should become a nun. Bye.”

He hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket, muttering to himself about his sisters and their constant boy problems. The fact that they had more than he did was mildly upsetting. He scrubbed at the toe of his shoe, sighing at the fresh smiley face that sat there. Niall should be banned from having felt markers; he had somehow made it his goal to ruin every white pair of shoes that Louis owned.

When he glanced back up he was startled by Harry standing a few feet away from him, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat. Louis stepped towards him, curling his arms around his middle to stave off a full body shiver. “Hey, you should know better than to be out here in this, weather boy.”

Harry was looking at him intently. “Was looking for you,”

“Why? Aren’t you on your date thing or whatever with Nick, would hate for you—“

He lunged forward, grasping Louis by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. “It’s not a god damn date, Louis Tomlinson!”

Louis barked out a laugh at how serious Harry looked. “Ookay, Harry Styles. Whatever you say,”

Harry squeezed his eyes closed, letting out a gargled noise. He popped them back open, his face scrunched up in frustration. “Louis, _why_ would I be on a date with Nick when I’ve been spending all my time giving banana’s blow jobs around _you!_ ”

Louis shrugged his shoulders, mumbling, “I thought you just really liked bananas.”

“No one likes bananas that much, Louis.”

He supposed that was true. Louis thinks he is becoming quite dense in his old age. After a moment’s hesitation, he made the decision to lean up and slot their lips together. And when Harry let out a relived sigh, he moved in closer, sliding his hands underneath his jacket. He hummed against his lips, sliding his tongue around Harry’s; and kissed him slow and lazy until his body felt like a cozy fire was burning through it.

Before he broke it off, he greedily ran his hands up and down Harry’s chest. He felt amazing. And, since he was already groping him, he decided to make it worth his while and travelled lower, giving his bum a squeeze. Harry made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat, wiggling his hips around to indicate more.

Louis tucked his fingers into his waist band, groaning in frustration when he couldn’t move them much further due to the constricting denim that was doing double duty on cock blocking. He barely managed to get out a ‘do you want to’ before Harry was dragging him towards the corner and shoving him into a cab.

…

It wasn’t until Louis was shuddering and panting underneath Harry on his couch (and having epiphanies – fuck those bananas are so, so lucky) that he realized neither of them told anyone they were leaving.

He knew that Niall and Perrie would do the simple math and figure out where he was, but he was feeling like a successful prick at the moment, so while he was tugging Harry’s jeans down his legs, he discreetly took Harry’s phone out of his pocket.

And maybe he took a picture of himself on his knees in front of Harry and then sent it to Nick Grimshaw with the tag line, “I’m really enjoying the view down here.”

Maybe.

 

*

 

The next day Harry gave Louis shit for that text – ‘heyyyy, try and be nice’ – but he also gave Louis a long and very luxurious blow job in the shower. Louis figured after that he could try his hand at being civil to Nick.

Louis made the executive decisions that the best way for them to spend the day was in bed; wrangling Harry back in it once they had dried off. He pulled the covers up and turned to face him, certain that he was smiling so hard his face was going to crack in half. However, Harry had a similar smile, so at least they were being embarrassing together.

Louis trailed a finger along the slope of his nose. God, even his nose was attractive. Louis was in too deep. He may as well surrender to all things Harry Styles right now.

“It’s safe to say that I would very much like to do this again.”

Harry hid his face in the pillow for a moment, looking back at Louis with a shy smile. “I wouldn’t mind it being a regular thing,”

Good god, his dimple was the size of a sink hole right now. Louis is considering therapy. Because Harry Styles is fucking adorable, and Louis should not be throwing that word around so much for an grown man who is almost thirty years old.

“Oh yeah?” Harry nodded, curling one of his giant baseball mitt hands low on his waist to pull him closer. Louis cupped his cheeks, pressing a hard kiss to his lips, “Alright, let’s give Ziam a run for their money as the stations power couple, babe.”

*

And did they ever.

They hammed it up on twitter, flirting so obnoxiously that every one of their friends tweeted them to please stop.

 

@niallhoran: @harry_styles @louis_tomlinson get a fucken room

 

@pezzae: @ niallhoran @harry_styles @louis_tomlinson couldn’t agree more N, and one that’s not our makeup room again pls

 

@grimmers: @pezzae@niallhoran @harry_styles @louis_tomlinson never has there been more need for a puking emoji

 

Of course the best way to respond to all this abuse was with a picture of them kissing underneath the mistletoe.

The only person that wasn’t complaining was their boss Simon, as the viewers deemed their relationship, you guessed it, adorable.

Louis was thinking at this point he should tattoo the word on his body somewhere. There was no escaping adorable. 

...

For Christmas Louis asked Harry to move in with him, and by New Year’s Eve, Niall had declared them the new station power couple. Zayn and Liam remained mum on their title being stolen, as they were still playing coy on their not so secret relationship.

A few minutes before midnight Louis curled up in Harry’s lap, handing him a glass of champagne to toast with. He kissed up the warm skin of his neck and along his jaw until he almost reached his lips. He hovered there, searching Harry’s eyes. “So, what’s your forecast for the New Year, Harry Styles?”

“Looks like clear skies and high temperatures, due to all the love in the air, Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis should be horrified by the both of them. They are truly repulsive. Instead the clock struck midnight, and his lips found Harry’s.

“Now kiss me you fool.”

 

 

Adorable. 


End file.
